


Death by a Thousand Cuts

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2018-12-17 17:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Jack ponders his friendship with Daniel and what went wrong.





	Death by a Thousand Cuts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Much better. No more beeping machines, no more nurses checking my pulse every time I close my eyes, no more Doc Frasier with her damn penlight. Just me, a beer, and a whole lot of stars. Oh, yeah, and you. How’s it hanging, Daniel?

Hey, don’t give me any grief about the beer. I’m cleared for light duty. I should be able to handle one little beer. How do you do that anyway? I can’t even see you, and I can tell you’re shaking your head at me.

Anyway, it’s just one beer. I deserve it. Licked that sarc addiction, didn’t I? Thank God. Between you and me, Daniel, you came off your addiction a lot easier than I came off mine.

Thanks for sticking it out with me. I know we couldn’t see you, but I knew you were there. Knew you wouldn’t leave, no matter what. It helped.

So, anyway, while I was lying there waiting for the next round of tremors, I had a lot of time to think. I got to thinking about us. About why you left and why I let you go.

I know neither of us had a choice when all was said and done. Jacob could only do so much to heal you, and I saw in your eyes that it wouldn’t be enough, that you wouldn’t be able to live with a halfway result. I get that, and I’m glad Oma was around. But you had to ask me first. Like you needed my permission to give up.

I never thought I’d see you give up, with or without permission. But you weren’t giving up on life, were you? It was us. You were tired of what we’d become. Can’t blame you. All those nitpicky arguments and snide remarks took their toll. Bit by bit, you and I tore apart that foundation and stopped rebuilding. Between us, we killed your reason to stay. Death by a thousand cuts.

A lot of it was my fault. I got used to you toeing the line and being the good little soldier boy. I forgot how much I needed you to be different, to do the “meet and greet” thing instead of the “shoot first, ask questions later” thing. I forgot how we used to walk down different roads that led to the same destination, and instead I got used to you following me down my road.

So, yeah, I got angry whenever you up and decided that you weren’t walking the military road any more. When everything became an argument. When we got caught in a vicious cycle of sniping at each other.

Except you were never angry at me, were you, Daniel? I figured it out finally, after you’d left and I’d had time to regret all the stupid things I’d said that I hadn’t meant. It wasn’t me. You were angry with yourself.

You were angry because you _had_ toed the line. We’d molded you into the soldier we thought we needed and you let us do it. You were angry because now you could see my point, and sometimes, even when you hated it, the military response was the right decision. All those arguments? That wasn’t about us, was it? That was you trying to prove to yourself—to yourself, Danny, not to me—that you hadn’t changed.

But you had. We all knew it. Sometimes it was even a good thing. I liked knowing you could handle yourself if we got caught in a fire fight. But, yeah, I missed the old you. I missed how you saw friends everywhere and how you would reach out your hand before you even thought of reaching for your weapon. Most of all, I missed our friendship.

I screwed up. I let it become personal. Sometimes it felt like it was you against me, and it shouldn’t have gotten that way. Ever. I should have tried to figure out _why_ you were so angry all the time instead of pushing it back at you.

You were hurting, and I should have seen it. I had all the signs in front of me. I mean, Assassin Daniel bumping off a bunch of Goa’uld even if it meant killing their hosts? Hello? The man who hates to kill even to defend himself is going to go out and commit cold-blooded murder?

Yeah, I’m mad. Mad at the Tok’ra for pushing your buttons and pigeon-holing you into that job. Mad at us for guilt-tripping you into it. Mad at General Hammond for letting you go without your team for back-up. And I’m mad at you for accepting it all, for not getting in our faces about our moral obligation to the hosts. I mean, my God, Daniel, how did you expect to live with yourself if it had worked? Even before throwing Sarah into the mix?

See, there I go, trying to pin the blame on you again. What I should be asking is, what the hell was _I_ thinking? I shouldn’t have let you go at all. As your friend and as your team leader, I should have protected you better. Shit, Danny, you were bleeding all over me, and I never saw it. No wonder you wanted to throw in the towel.

You know what I regret most? I made it easy for you. You asked, and I let you go. Just like that. I wish I’d argued with you a little. I would have given you anything, Daniel, but first I should have made sure you knew it damn well wasn’t what I wanted.

I wish I’d held onto you. Just for a minute.

No, they’re not tears. I swallowed wrong.

By the way, this ascension thing? I know you’re loving it. While we were hanging out at Baal’s, I saw that glow in your face. The same one you had when we found Heliopolis. But remember what Ernest said? What good is it if you can’t share it with anyone? I know you, Daniel. It must be driving you nuts to have all this knowledge and not be able to do anything with it. All this ability and you can’t use it to make a difference.

And you’re all about making differences, Daniel. That’s who you are. It’s what you do. Sappy, I know. Chalk it up to a withdrawal symptom.

I’m just saying, you might be toeing the line right now, but don’t let it go on as long as you did with us. Don’t let the so-called rules gnaw at your soul and break you into so many pieces that you can’t stand yourself. You’ve been down that road. So have I. It’s not worth it, Danny. If living that way is destroying who you are, then I hope to God you cross the line before it’s too late.

You hearing me, Daniel?

Yeah, okay, enough with the blinking stars already. Let’s not give the Martin Lloyds of the world more to work with. You know how hard it is to come up with decent cover stories.

Nice light show though. Thanks, buddy.


End file.
